The Walking Dead - Series Finale - Part 1: The Demons All Around
by SounderFall541
Summary: Written as a 2-part finale to the entire series, taking place roughly 2 years from the finale of Season 3, this story tells of what is left of the group we've all come to know and love. Rick, Daryl, Tyreese, Carl, and Carol are all that remain, and in the walker-filled Georgia wildnerness, they must do whatever they can to find food, shelter, and sanity.


**The Walking Dead**

**Series Finale**

**Part 1 - The Demons All Around**

It was dark. The fire crackled and snapped in the night. Crickets played their usual melody. Fireflies, like stars, dotted the woods. Carl sat on a log, staring into the heat of the fire. The flames' continuous glow radiated in his eyes. His hair almost reached his brow, and an Atlanta Braves baseball cap was fitted tightly on his head. His mouth was closed, and gave his face a pensive expression. Now almost 16-years-old, Carl's stature almost resembled that of an adult. In his hands was a Beretta 92FS, a powerful semi-automatic pistol. A supressor was connected at the end of the gun, making it almost completely silent when fired.

A crack of a twig on the ground signaled the presence of another person. Rick stepped into the immediate glow emmitting from the campfire. He sat on a log opposite Carl, and assumed the same position, staring into the flames.

"Hey," said Rick, looking up at Carl. Carl did not answer, and his eyes only seemed to peer deeper into the fire.

The thick silence seared at the both of them. Rick's mouth opened for a moment, almost followed by a sound, but then closed. His eyes looked back towards the fire, before he stood up and walked away from the fire.

He walked into one of three tents that sat adjacent to the fire. He quickly emerged, holding two spoons and two cans of beans in his left arm. He returned to the fire, and held out one of the cans to Carl. Carl hesitantly accepted the can, followed by a spoon. Rick, saying nothing, turned and walked back toward the tents.

Rick went to one of the other tents and opened it's flap. Tyreese sat in the tent on a milk crate, holding a young girl in his lap. "Hey there, beautiful," Rick said to Judith, now 3-years-old. Rick placed the other spoon and can of beans on the ground, as he looked back to Judith. Judith looked up to Rick with her angelic eyes. Tyreese lifted her up, and carefully handed her to Rick. Rick struggled to hold Judith in his left arm. The stub at the end of his right forearm was almost useless, though he found some use of it. It's main purpose, Rick found, was as a reminder to its own horrific origin and the one-eyed man who had caused it. Rick took a seat on a milk crate beside Tyreese, and lifted Judith into his lap.

"Well?" asked Tyreese.

"No... not yet," answered Rick.

"Rick, it'll be fine," said Tyreese. "He'll come around."

"Yeah. Let's hope so," said Rick.

"You think he's alright keepin' watch?" asked Tyreese.

"Oh, yeah. He's fine," said Rick.

"You sure?" asked Tyreese.

"Yeah, I'm sure," said Rick. "In fact, it's probably good for him."

"Alright. If you say so," said Tyreese.

Rick helped feed Judith some of the beans from the can. Judith gave a small hiccup, which inspired Rick and Tyreese to laugh slightly.

Tyreese later exited the tent, and went over to the third tent. He slightly tapped on the doorway.

"Yeah," a voice answered.

Tyreese entered the tent. Daryl and Carol were both sitting on the floor of the tent. Carol was holding a baby. Tyreese asked Daryl if he could help keep watch with Carl, as Rick had just finished his shift. "Yeah, that's fine," said Daryl. Daryl leaned over to Carol and gave her a kiss, followed by a kiss to his infant daughter.

"Hey, keep an eye on Carl," Carol said to Daryl. "He's been actin' pretty withdrawn since Rick told him about the plan."

"Yeah, yeah. I got it," said Daryl.

As Daryl exited the tent and off into the empty night, Tyreese smiled at Carol and said, "How is everything?"

"Good," said Carol. "We're good."

"Savannah seems to be almost completely over that cold," said Tyreese.

"Oh, yeah. She's a fighter," Carol said as she looked down at the sleeping child with a smile.

Tyreese, smiling at the baby as well, said, "Well, I'll leave you alone, then. Good night."

"Alright. Good night," said Carol. As Tyreese exited the tent, she looked back down to her daughter, and began to sing a lullaby.

Daryl and Carl slowly paced the borders of the camp, each on the opposite side of the other, while the rest of the group rested in their tents. Faint steps could be heard coming from the woods.

"Daryl," said Carl quietly but firmly. "I got one. Looks like a loner."

Daryl quickly but silently hurried over to Carl, who pointed out the mindless monster making its way toward the camp. Its face was almost completely gone, making it seem as if it either been burned or ripped off. Its walk was half-limped, and it made a quiet grunting noise, almost like what a sleeping pig would sound like. It was wearing what had once been a military uniform, but now was covered in holes and blood. It didn't appear that the walker had noticed either Carl or Daryl, but apparently was simply making its way toward the light of the fire.

An arrow suddenly struck the forehead of the creature, which made it come to a complete hault and fell, face first, straight to the ground. Carl looked to Daryl, who was still aiming his crossbow toward the walker.

"Nice," said Carl. Daryl made his way toward the fallen walker, quickly followed by Carl. Standing above the walker, Daryl stared curiously at it. "At ease, bitch," Daryl said. Carl released a smile, and Daryl reached down, grabbed the end of the arrow, and yanked it from its fallen prey.

The next morning, as the sun was barely becoming visible through the trees, Rick was awake and moving about the campsite. There were a few embers in the makeshift firepit burning red and yellow, and a faint smell of smoke emitted from them. "Come on, y'all, we got to get movin'," Rick said to the other members of the camp. Movements were heard coming from the tents, as the others were finishing packing up.

Tyreese, already fully packed and ready to travel, approached Rick.

"We seriously gotta do somethin' else, Rick," said Tyreese. "We're too vulnerable in tents out here in the woods. I'm sick and tired of always having to watch our asses."

"I know," said Rick. "But it's the only option we got right now. If we're ever gonna make it to Columbia, we have to keep gradually moving, even if it means tents every now and then."

"But at what cost?" asked Tyreese. "Is Columbia really worth that risk? What if-"

"I know, Tyreese. I know," said Rick. "But this is the only hope we have, and you know that. If there's rumors that Columbia is safe, then we go to Columbia. I have got to keep them safe, and, by God, I am goin' to keep tryin'. We can't stop now."

"Alright," said Tyreese, compassionately. "Alright."

The rest of the group walked up, with a look on each of their faces that said they knew there was something going on between Rick and Tyreese.

"Alright, everybody ready?" said Rick.

Everyone nodded their head, except Carl.

"We need to talk," Carl said to Rick.

It was quiet for what seemed like an eternity. No one said a word. Carl hadn't spoken a single word in at least three days.

"Now?" said Rick.

"Please," said Carl.

After another small pause, Rick finally said, "Alright. Hey, guys, give us just a minute." Carl handed his baby sister to Tyreese.

Rick and Carl walked a little ways off, where Carl laid his belongings on the ground.

"So, you finally coming around, huh?" said Rick.

"Not exactly. It took me a while, and I still don't agree with your decision," Carl said, pausing for a second. "But I can respect the fact that you're the leader. I'm sorry for the way I acted earlier."

Rick gave his son a hug, and said, "I appreciate that, son. I really do."

Rick let go of Carl, who released a small smile at his father. Rick offered one back.

As the group traveled through the wooded forest, dark clouds began gathering overhead. Though rain was not at all their enemy, it certainly wasn't an enjoyable experience. Small sounds of thunder could be heard, each louder than the last.

"Damn," said Tyreese. "I hate rain."

"How can ya hate rain?" said Daryl. "Rain is great, man. It's God's way of giving back; lettin' us know He's still there."

"Well, I just wish He'd give back in other ways," said Tyreese.

Daryl laughed a little. "Agreed."

As the thunder and rain both grew stronger, Rick began searching for a place of shelter from the storm. The two younger children were beginning to become more and more irritated by the ceaseless rain, and so were the other members of the group.

They came to an open field, not much bigger than a grocery store parking lot. As they made their way into the clearing, the rain began to beat down upon them even harder than before. Uneasy, and now desperate, Rick peered into the woods beyond the clearing for any sign of shelter. Then, at the edge of the woods opposite them, Rick spotted a small shed.

"Let's head for that shed," said Rick.

The group hurriedly but cautiously made it's way across the field. The rain and thunder made it difficult to hear anything else, which added to their uneasiness. As they reached the shed, a horrible stench filled their noses.

"Wait," said Rick.

Rick approached the door of the shed, which was slightly ajar. He peered through the crack of the door, but could only see flies, and a lot of them. He heard nothing, apart from the buzzing of the flies, and slowly opened the door.

Two skeletons lied on the floor, with bits of flesh still on the bones.

Daryl bent down to one of them, and looked closely at the bones. "Bite marks," said Daryl. "Probably took in here for shelter. With this shed here, there's probably a house or something somewhere closeby."

"This rain ain't lettin' up," said Tyreese. "Rick, it's your call."

The group looked to Rick, who was staring at the bodies on the ground.

"Let's get these bodies outta here, and we'll just try to wait out this storm," said Rick. "We can look for some shelter after it clears up."

As Carl and Tyreese dragged the bodies outside and around to the back of the shed, Rick and Daryl helped Carol and the children in and sat them down in the corner. Carl and Tyreese returned and shut the door.

"While we're in here, look for anything we can use," said Rick.

The hunters' two shotguns laid on the ground. Carl and Tyreese check each one, both empty of ammunition.

"They sure as hell went out fightin'," said Tyreese.

A large tool box, with many drawers, was against the wall. Rick searched thoroughly through each one, only to find a screwdriver; a few screws, nuts, and bolts; and, in the bottom drawer, a key. As Rick picked up the key, Daryl looked at it, then made eye contact with Rick.

"Wonder what that goes to," said Daryl.

"I dunno," said Rick. "It's pretty small. Looks like it might go to a lock or somethin'," said Rick. "Hey, anybody see a lock or anything like that anywhere?"

The group looked around the small shed, but saw nothing of the sort.

"Rick, it might just be some lost key, ya know?" said Tyreese.

"Yeah, I know, but I'm gonna be damn sure," said Rick as he continued to peer around the room.

After a few seconds, Carl broke the desperate silence. "There!"

Rick quickly looked to Carl, who was pointing up to the ceiling. Rick and the rest of the group looked to where Carl was pointing.

Near the corner of the shed, on the ceiling, was a small silver lock, locked around what looked to be a latch of some kind.

"Move, move!" said Rick, helping Carol and the children up and out of the way so he could get to the lock.

Rick got under the lock, and then stopped. He, and then the rest of the group, remembered he only had one hand.

"Here," said Rick, handing the key to Tyreese.

Tyreese took the key and reached up to the lock. He grabbed the lock in one hand, and in the other, shakingly and slowly put the key into the lock. He hesitated, only for a second, as if he was offering a quick prayer to the Almighty, and then turned the key.

The lock opened, and a small hatch opened up into what appeared to be an attic.

"Here, roll me the tool box!" said Tyreese.

The group hurriedly roll the tool box to the corner of the shed, followed by Tyreese climbing onto it.

As Tyreese's upper torso disappeared into the ceiling, the group held their breath, desperately hoping for anything that could be of use to them.

Tyreese could be heard moving above them, and then Tyreese stopped moving altogether. He climbed down, and reached the floor. He was holding a paper.

The group was quiet. Tyreese simply stared at each of them.

"What? What's it say?" said Carol.

Tyreese handed the paper to Rick. Rick took the paper, looked at it for a second with curious eyes, then began to read aloud:

Tony, November 30

If you're reading this, it means you found my other note at the house. I don't know how much time you have to read this, so I'll be quick.

I'm going to Columbia. I'm so damn sick and tired of this place, and I've been hearing that Columbia is safe. I don't even know if I believe it, but I got nothing else to lose.

You get outta Georgia, okay? It is not safe here. I'm barely alive as it is writing this note.

If you decide to come to Columbia, I hope to see ya there. Hope this helps. Take care.

- Robert

As Rick finished reading the note, the group stood quietly.

"It's dated 'November 30'," said Rick. "This thing is almost 6 months old."

"Sounds like we weren't the only ones who heard about Columbia," said Carol. Rick glanced to Carl, who looked back to his father with apologetic eyes.

"That's not it," said Tyreese, as he climbed back into the attic. He quickly came back down holding a rifle, an empty magazine for the gun, and a box of ammunition.

"Holy shit!" said Daryl, stepping forward to get a closer look at the gun and ammo. The box of ammuntion was full, and the rifle appeared to be in fairly good condition.

"The note mentioned a house," said Rick. "It must be close."

The group looked to Rick, waiting to hear his further plans. Rick looked out the only window of the shed, and saw that it was still pouring rain.

"Let's... Let's just stay here for right now," said Rick. The group appeared to be in absolute agreement, and they all sat down on the floor of the shed to rest from the long day of walking. "We'll see where we go after the storm passes," Rick said.

The storm continued on for a few more hours, until it finally ceased just as quickly as it had started. The sun shone again, and Daryl, who had been keeping watch at the window, alerted the group.

"Hey, I think it's stopped rainin'," said Daryl.

The rest of the group gradually rose to their feet, and looked out the window.

"Yeah, looks like it has," said Rick. "Alright, we still got some hours left in the day. Let's try and find this house."

The group gathered their things and left the shed. After a quick check to see that the woods were clear of any sign of movement, they continued on into the woods.

"You guys see anything, speak up," said Rick.

The group slowly but steadily made their way through the woods. Drops of rain still dripped down from the leaves on the trees above them. The forest floor was damp, and the air smelled fresh of the wet pine trees. The forest seemed to be as it always had been, as if the world itself was in no way affected by the black plague that had befallen its inhabitants.

"Guys, over there," said Tyreese, pointing off into the woods.

The group made their way toward a body lying on the ground. As they got closer, they saw it was a deer.

Daryl bent down and looked closely at the carcass.

"Shit. This thing ain't been dead long," he said. "There's still wet blood."

Daryl stood up and was looking into the woods.

The group soon followed, also looking for any sign of an attacker of the animal.

"There you are," said Daryl. He pointed his crossbow into the woods, which caught the attention of the others. They saw a small figure walking towards them. It appeared to be a small boy, but they soon realized that it had once been a small boy, as it had been infected and was now a vicious walker.

Daryl aimed at the boy, to quietly subdue him, when Daryl lowered his bow and gazed in awe in his direction.

"Shit! RUN!" yelled Daryl.

Countless walkers were coming towards them. The group grabbed tightly onto whatever was in their arms and ran in the opposite direction. The walkers, having been made aware of the group's presence after Daryl's alarm, were now all in hot pursuit.

Leaping over small, fallen branches and ducking below overhead ones, the group raced in between the trees, hoping to find some kind of fortifying to spare them. Rick, Tyreese, and Daryl situated themselves behind Carol and Carl, who were holding the children, as to better protect them.

The forest seemed to be infinite as now clearing or structure of any kind were seen. The walkers, though not as fast and as adrenaline-filled as the group they were pursuing, were ceaseless in their chase and were not far behind.

Suddenly, literally out of nowhere, a lone walker came at the group from the left. Carol screamed, as the walker neared her, and Tyreese, like a football player out of a cannon, leapt and tackled the walker to the ground, leaving Carol and her infant child untouched.

The group hesitantly continued on, looking back, waiting for Tyreese.

Tyreese stabbed the walker in the temple of its head with a large sharp knife. "Don't wait for me! GO!" he yelled, as he soon stood up and continued with the group. This short stumble had cost the group some distance they had on their chasers, but they ran even faster than before.

The heavy breathing, panting, and grunting could be heard behind them, constantly reminding them of their demise should they tire and stop.

They hurried still, between each tree and bush, and finally saw something ahead that gave them the happiest feeling they had felt that day. A 10-foot-tall chain-linked fence stood ahead of them, and a large field lay on the other side. The only problem, which each of them soon realized, crushing their newly-found hope, was that they had no way of getting over it.

"To the right!" Rick yelled, and as the group reached the fence, they turned right and ran along side it. Hoping and begging for any sign of a gate or opening, they hurried down the side of the fence, with the walkers still behind them.

Then, as if God Himself had mercifully placed it there, a small gate was in sight. Daryl hurried forward and began attempting to open it. A pad lock, locked on a chain, kept the gate from opening very far.

"Shit!" yelled Daryl. "Alright, y'all can maybe fit through." He pulled and pulled at the gates, trying to separate them as far as he could. This did make enough room for a thin person to fit through.

"GO, GO, GO!" he yelled. Carol handed her daughter to Daryl, and she tightly slipped through the gates. Once she was through, he eased the little girl through to Carol. Carl and Judith were next, and they likewise fit through. Tyreese with a rifle, and Daryl with a handgun, fighting off as many as were now in shooting range, Rick struggled through as Carol opened the gates as far as open as they would go.

"Alright, go," said Daryl to Tyreese.

"Ain't no time for arguin', Daryl. You go," said Tyreese.

Daryl hesitated as he looked at Tyreese as if he was ready to get him through first til his dying breath. But, with no time to do so, he turned and pushed himself through the gates, under the chain linking them together.

"Alright, come on, then!" said Daryl to Tyreese, as he held open the gates as far as he could.

Tyreese, who had been shooting as many walkers as he could, turned to the group with wet eyes. He threw his rifle over the fence, followed by his heavy backpack, and handgun.

"What are you doing?!" yelled Rick.

"Ain't no time. You guys go. There's bound to be a house somewhere on this property. You find it and be safe," said Tyreese.

"THERE IS TIME!" screamed Rick angrily. "COME ON!"

Tyreese, now in full tears, said, "I... I can't." He pulled down his shirt over one of his shoulders, revealing a nasty bite mark.

"That walker back there got a big piece of me," he said.

The group stood quietly. The silence seemed to be eternal in its length as well as power. With the walkers now getting close, Tyreese began stepping away from them.

"I'm gonna go this way, distract as many of 'em as I can," he said. "I'll see ya."

And with that, Tyreese darted off into the woods, yelling taunts at the walkers, distracting most of them to follow him. He quickly faded out of sight, as well did his screams.

Carol in tears, and the others with wet eyes, picked up everything and began running through the field. The sun was going to be setting soon, and Rick knew that another night in the woods was not an option.

When they got to the opposite edge of the field, they saw a trail that lead into what appeared to be another clearing ahead. They followed it, and came upon a small subdivision of houses, all of which appeared to be fairly new.

With no walkers or anyone in sight, the group quietly and quickly made their way towards the houses.

All of the homes had been heavily boarded up, as if to had been fortified against the walkers. They made their way into the closest one, busting through one of the boards in one of the windows. Daryl went in first, and after checking the house, helped the others inside.

The board replaced, and the rest of the house secured tightly, the group sat down, and began to finally take full breaths.

Rick began sobbing, as did Carol, and Carl cried as well. Daryl, with tears in his eyes, simply stared at the floor.

Carl sat down next to his father, who put his arm around his son, and sobbed together. Daryl and Carol sat against another wall, and Daryl held his small family close as well.

When it was well into the night, the group finally began laying what blankets they found, and making spots to sleep. Carol laid with the children, and Daryl laid next to her. Rick and Carl volunteered to both take the first shifts of keeping watch in the night.

Rick, holding his pistol, and Carl, holding his, both sat against the walls in the living room where they camped as the others slept. Carl smiled at his father, who smiled back.

"Ya know, he once told me that he had been in the Army once," said Carl.

"Who? Tyreese?" said Rick.

"Yeah," said Carl. "He said he was in Afghanistan for a little bit. He was some kind of commander or somethin'."

"Really?" said Rick. "Dang. I can see it. He was tougher than any guy I've ever met."

The two simply stared into the floor for a short while.

"Hey, Dad," said Carl. "Remember that time we were by that campfire and Tyreese farted and he tried blaming it on Carol?"

Rick chuckled, "Oh, my. Yeah, I remember. And Carol just casually went along with it and took the credit for it. And then Tyreese started feelin' bad and 'fessed up." He chuckled a little more. "Yeah... that seems like it was yesterday."

"Yeah," said Carl. "Crazy how fast time flies."

The two again stared into the floor for some time, as if the images were being played for them on a screen in the floor.

"Hey, um, why don't you go ahead and just take a nap," said Rick.

"What? What do you mean?" said Carl.

"It seems to be pretty quiet," said Rick. "I'll wake you up the second I hear anything."

"You sure?" said Carl, who didn't want to turn down such a rare chance to sleep.

"I'm sure," said Rick.

As Carl slept, Rick continued staring into the floor, his mind heavy with thoughts from the happenings of that day, and of the friend he had lost. The only sound was that of crickets. The house was dark, and Rick was left to himself and his own thoughts.

He looked over to his daughter, and then to his son. He released a smile, and a small, single tear trickled down his bearded face.


End file.
